


Someone Saved My Life Tonight

by heyjupiter



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Porn Battle, Post-Felina, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Felina, Jesse gets picked up by a mysterious stranger who looks just like Mr. White, but who cannot possibly be him. The stranger begins to undo the damage Jesse has suffered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Saved My Life Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Likeadeuce sent me this prompt from Porn Battle: "Jesse Pinkman/OMC (played by Bryan Cranston), au, prostitution, start, healing, vampires, truckers, vans, punishment, afterlife, any."
> 
> Being new to Porn Battle, I assumed that was all one long prompt, rather than several one-word prompts, and I thought the idea of an OMC played by Bryan Cranston (aka Walter White's good twin) as a vampire prostitute trucker was hilarious. Anyway, so, we couldn't stop talking about that bananas concept, and then this happened. It's dedicated to likeadeuce in spirit, but not in fact, because she hasn't finished the whole series yet and I don't want to spoil anything for her.
> 
> As you can guess from this being for Porn Battle, it contains explicit sexual content. Also, a content warning for dubious consent, on account of ~vampire powers.~
> 
> Title from the Elton John song.

Jesse had driven that car through the fence of the Neo-Nazis' compound and hadn't stopped until he'd run out of gas in the middle of the desert. In retrospect, this hadn't been a great plan, but he didn't think anyone could blame him for not thinking clearly, given the circumstances. 

He's exhausted, and he decides to just take a nap here in the car and figure something out in the morning. He's just retreated to the backseat and is trying to find a comfortable position when a semi-truck slows to a stop alongside him.

Warily, Jesse approaches the driver's side. It's the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, and the road isn't really a trucking route. He peers up at the driver and sputters, "Mr. White?"

The driver smiles down at Jesse. He says, "No, I am not the one you know as Walter White." His voice is incredibly soothing, like an elf from _Lord of the Rings_ or some shit.

"Um. What?"

"Why don't you get in my truck, and I'll explain everything to you?"

"Okay," Jesse says. 

Not-Mr. White smiles at him, and it feels important to Jesse. He walks around to the passenger side and climbs in. 

The guy looks just like Mr. White, except paler, and with darker hair. 

"Are you Mr. White's brother or something?"

"Or something," Not-Mr. White says. "I can see that you have suffered greatly at the hands of Walter White."

Jesse shrugs. "Not just him."

"But _because_ of him, even if he did not directly cause you harm?"

"Um, I guess, kinda," Jesse says. 

"Yes," Not-Mr. White says firmly. "Yes."

"How do you know so much about him?"

"It matters not, Jesse. Come, you must be tired from your travails. Why not rest here, with me?"

"Okay," Jesse agrees. Not-Mr. White's voice makes Jesse feel warm all over, despite the cool night air.

"Good, good." Not-Mr. White smiles at Jesse and takes him firmly by the hand, leading him back to a small room tucked behind the truck's cab. There's a bed with clean white sheets, and Jesse lies down on it. Not-Mr. White joins him and begins to gently remove Jesse's clothes.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Jesse asks.

"Shh," Not-Mr. White says. "You have suffered, and it is time for you to heal. Lie still." Jesse obeys, and soon he's naked in Not-Mr. White's bed. 

"What's your name?" Jesse asks.

"Why not call me Mr. Black?" the stranger says. He laughs, and it's a little spooky, but it doesn't occur to Jesse to try to leave. Mr. Black rolls over and straddles Jesse. He begins to run his mouth over Jesse's body, licking his wounds, his bruises, his scars. 

Jesse whimpers, and Mr. Black makes gentle shushing sounds. "Heal, Jesse Pinkman," he says, and Jesse feels his skin tingle. 

"Delicious," Mr. Black says.

Jesse moans as Mr. Black's mouth moves lower on his body. He moves at an unhurried pace, giving equal care to all of the many marks on Jesse's body. It feels so good. It's been so long since anyone touched Jesse with care that he's easily able to ignore the small part of his brain that suggests there's anything strange about this. 

Mr. Black is caressing the bruises on Jesse's hips, from where Todd would grab him. Then he takes Jesse's cock in his mouth. Jesse gasps. Mr. Black hums softly, and Jesse squirms with pleasure. "Oh, god," he says. "That's…"

Mr. Black is as slow and patient here as he has been with every other part of Jesse. Jesse would have called it torturous, once, but now he knows better. This isn't torture. He clenches his fingers in the sheets and mumbles, "Please," as Mr. Black takes his whole cock into his throat. Jesse bucks his hips. He doesn't feel tired anymore. He feels _alive_ as he comes in Mr. Black's mouth.

Mr. Black delicately cleans Jesse's cock with his tongue, then licks his lips and says, "Very good, Jesse." He sounds just like Mr. White in that moment, and Jesse freezes.

"You're safe, Jesse," Mr. Black assures him, his silky voice not at all like Mr. White's. "Lie still. I am not yet finished."

"Okay," Jesse agrees. He lies back and lets Mr. Black caress his legs and feet with his hands and still with his tongue. Jesse feels so good. It's better than any drug. Better than heroin, better than Blue Sky. He doesn't protest when Mr. Black finishes with his feet and gently rolls Jesse over onto his stomach. Mr. Black starts again with Jesse's shoulders and back, carefully licking all of his wounds.

"You did not deserve such punishment, Jesse," Mr. Black says. 

Jesse sighs into the crisp white pillow, and Mr. Black says, "No matter. That time of your life is over, and you will start anew." He begins to massage Jesse's now-healed shoulders. Jesse feels as if he's actually melting into the bed, as if he is no longer a wreck of a man but just a puddle. He's so relaxed that he doesn't even jump when Mr. Black moves down and begins to work his tongue over Jesse's ass.

"Even here, you have been hurt," Mr. Black says sadly. "But I will heal you." Slowly and deliberately, he works his tongue between Jesse's ass cheeks and eventually into Jesse's asshole. Jesse's never felt anything quite like it, and he whimpers from the sensations. He can't believe it when his cock stirs under him. For six long months he's tried to feel as little as possible, and now he's overwhelmed with pleasure. He shifts on the bed, trying to get some more friction on his cock. 

Mr. Black lifts his head and says, "Be still, Jesse. The time for that will come."

"Sorry," Jesse mumbles. He tries his best to remain still. It's easier when Mr. Black finishes with his ass and continues down the backs of his legs. Eventually, he finishes, and comes to lie next to Jesse. He takes Jesse's face in his hands and kisses him gently on the mouth. It's too weird, because he really does look exactly like Mr. White. Jesse pulls away and turns his head to the side.

"Shh, Jesse, I have told you that I am not your Mr. White."

"Who are you, then? He never said he had a brother."

"I suppose we are not brothers," Mr. Black says. "We have chosen such different paths." He repositions Jesse and begins to lick his face. Jesse closes his eyes and feels his scars tingle. 

"Beautiful," Mr. Black whispers. Then, as if Jesse were a doll, Mr. Black carefully places Jesse facedown on the bed. He pushes Jesse's knees up and spreads his thighs. He puts his mouth to Jesse's asshole again, carefully working it with his tongue. Then he adds a finger, gently working Jesse open.

Jesse moans and reaches one hand back to fist his cock. 

"Beautiful, Jesse," Mr. Black whispers, and then he presses his cock into Jesse.

Jesse moans. Mr. Black fucks Jesse the same way he'd done everything else, slowly and methodically. "Please," Jesse whimpers. "Please."

Mr. Black reaches under Jesse and takes his cock in his cold hand. He jacks Jesse off in time with his thrusts, and it feels amazing, but it isn't quite enough for a second orgasm so quickly after his first. Mr. Black covers Jesse's body with his own, still gently thrusting in and out of him. He sucks on Jesse's neck, on his earlobes. Jesse has completely lost track of time. He could have been in this truck for hours, or days. He doesn't know or care. It's infinitely better than being in that hole in the ground, or in the lab with Todd.

Mr. Black murmurs, "Are you ready, Jesse?" 

His pace quickens, and Jesse stutters, "Y-yes, please." He feels Mr. Black's come inside of him, leaking over his thighs, and a split-second later Jesse comes against Mr. Black's hand. Mr. Black strokes Jesse's hair with his other hand and kisses his throat. Then he pulls out, cleans himself off with a tissue, and gently licks Jesse's cock clean again. 

"Thank you," Jesse whispers.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Black says. He gathers Jesse into his arms and says, "Now, rest, Jesse. You've earned this rest." 

Jesse closes his eyes and falls asleep almost instantly, nestled against Mr. Black's chest. When he awakens, it's pitch black. Mr. Black reaches out and turns on a lamp. Jesse does a double-take--he's not used to how much this man looks like Mr. White, or to the idea that Mr. White is finally dead, or to the idea that he's freed from the Neo-Nazis. Jesse gasps--with no pain, the damage to his lungs from all those cooks has apparently healed as well. Mr. Black says, "Shh, Jesse, you're safe."

Jesse stretches, and is surprised to feel no pain. He rubs his hands over his wrists--no handcuffs, no cuts, no scars. Abruptly he remembers everything from the night before and blushes.

"Oh, Jesse, you have no call to feel shame," Mr. Black says. "All is as it should be, now."

"How did you--are you some kind of--are you a--vampire?" Jesse asks, knowing both that his question is ridiculous, and also that his guess is correct.

Mr. Black laughs. "In a manner of speaking, yes. You could call me that."

Jesse knows he should feel afraid, but he doesn't. "Are you gonna turn me into a vampire?"

"No, Jesse, that is not your fate."

"Oh. Um, what is my fate?"

Mr. Black smiles. "That is for you to discover, Jesse." He rises from the bed and pulls a backpack out from under it. "Here. This bag contains what you will need to start anew. Tonight, I will take you as far as Cheyenne, and from there, you will know what to do."

"Okay," Jesse says, though he has no idea what to do now, and he's not sure how a few hundred more miles is gonna make any difference. 

"Rest, Jesse," Mr. Black says. "We cannot travel until nightfall."

"Okay," Jesse says. Hesitantly, he curls against Mr. Black, who responds by caressing his back. Jesse sighs with pleasure. He mumbles, "So, yo, you're like a vampire trucker?"

"Sometimes."

"That's weird."

"I suppose so," Mr. Black replies, running a hand through Jesse's hair. Feeling dazed and contented, Jesse drifts back to sleep, hoping to awaken to a fresh start.


End file.
